


Secondhand Goods

by goldheartedsky, the_genderman



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Amputee Bucky Barnes, Angst with a Happy Ending, Antisemitism, Canon Disabled Character, Canon Divergence - Captain America: The First Avenger, Coworkers to lovers, Denial of Feelings, Discussion of Nazi Torture, F/M, Gay Awakening, Gay Bucky Barnes, Implied Bisexual Steve Rogers, Internalized Homophobia, Jewish Bucky Barnes, M/M, Not-So-Straight Daniel Sousa, One-Sided Relationship, Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Period Typical Ableism, SSR Agent Bucky Barnes, Trauma Bonding, but in a healthy way, unrequited pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:20:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22657672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldheartedsky/pseuds/goldheartedsky, https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_genderman/pseuds/the_genderman
Summary: Daniel Sousa and Bucky Barnes have similar stories. Both sons of immigrants, they were drafted and shipped away from the only homes they knew. Both were injured in combat and spent more time in hospitals than either would like to admit. Both came home with scars that went beyond their missing limbs. And now they both work at the SSR watching the person they love fall in love with someone else.Life goes on and you weather the storms with what remains until you realize that a safe harbor has been in front of you the whole time.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Daniel Sousa, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter/Daniel Sousa, Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers
Comments: 21
Kudos: 72
Collections: Marvel Rare Pair Bang 2019





	Secondhand Goods

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this mainly started out as a response to how angry I was about Endgame, watching Bucky and Daniel getting completely relegated to the sidelines when they are The Best™️. So what was the next logical plan of action? Have them fall in love with EACH OTHER!
> 
> This is the first time writing these two together but it definitely won’t be the last.
> 
> Thank you so so SO much for my wonderful artist for helping me bring this brand new ship to life!!!

* * *

  
A foot comes by and suddenly the balance of his crutch disappears. Daniel catches himself on the edge of the desk but his files go flying. He clenches his jaw, looking around for the culprit but whatever asshole it was has disappeared into the crowd of other agents. He sees Peggy turn from across the room, her dark brown eyes questioning him silently as her eyebrows knit together. He refuses to admit defeat though, and shifts his grip.

“You shouldn’t let them do that to you,” a voice behind him says.

“Yeah, well,” Daniel mutters as he grabs at the papers on the floor. “Don’t got much of a choice, do I?”

“You could always just whack ‘em with that nice shiny stick of yours,” the voice says, amused, and Daniel finally looks up at the other man.

James Barnes, one of the Commandos. He was the one who had been tortured by Hydra and the Nazis, had went out with Captain America, and been rumored to have fallen from the train. He was a bit of a living legend around the base and it wasn’t just from being Steve Rogers’ childhood best friend.

Daniel glances at the shirt sleeve carefully rolled and tucked just below his shoulder and tries to think of anything not terribly stupid to say. “Kind of hard to hit them when they’re too fast for me to get. Can’t do much chasing because of the, you know…” He trails off, motioning to his leg. Barnes snorts a laugh out, the corners of his blue eyes crinkling as he smiles. He bends down, scooping the rest of the files against his toes with his right hand and hands them over. “Thanks,” Daniel mutters quietly.

“We cripples gotta look out for each other, right?” Barnes says, his deep voice cool and calm as he slaps Daniel’s shoulder. “Guarantee you that nobody else will.”

The other man turns to walk away and Daniel feels words bubble up in his throat. “Hey Barnes!” James turns, a single eyebrow cocked. “I gotta ask, how’d you really lose your arm? All those stories they tell about you and the Commandos and Rogers can’t all be true.”

Barnes’ smile fades and he shrugs. “Must’ve just misplaced it then.”

He’s gone before Daniel can say another word.

~~~

“Agent Sousa?” Peggy’s strong voice carries halfway across the empty room but he could hear her in a hurricane, could hear her from miles away; he knows her voice that well. His throat goes dry as he turns to her. “My office, please.”

The bottom of his crutch makes a soft thud, thud, thud sound on the tile as he heads toward her door. “What’s this about, Peg?” he asks, glancing at the clock. It’s late, almost eight o’clock. What the hell were either of them still doing here?

“Office, Agent Sousa,” she repeats, emphasizing his rank even though there’s almost no one left in the building. She holds the door open for him and follows him over to her desk. “So, Daniel, I wanted to talk to you about Agent Krzeminski. I was told that there was an incident this morning?”

“Someone just tried to kick my crutch out from underneath me, Peggy, it’s really not that big of a deal. Hell, I don’t even know if it was Ray or not.”

“According to Agent Barnes, it was,” Peggy says as they both sit in the chairs. “Now I’ve already had my fair share of run ins with Agent Krzeminski before I was appointed as Chief, but I will not allow this pettiness to continue. I’ve already discussed writing him up with—”

“Don’t,” he says, a little too quickly.

Peggy’s mouth snaps shut and for a moment, all they can do is look at each other. Even after a long day, not a hair is out of place, not a wrinkle in her suit. He’s not sure how she does it all but there’s a reason that she’s Chief over everyone else. Daniel’s not quiet sure if he’s actually in love with her or if he just admires the hell out of her. She shakes her head, still trying to figure out if she heard him correctly. “You don’t want me speaking to Agent Krzeminski about this?”

“I don’t want you talking to anyone about this,” Daniel says, trying not to sound as frustrated as he is. “I wish Barnes had just left it alone too. I don’t want to make a big deal over this whole thing. I get enough shit around here as is with my bum leg. You of all people should know what happens when you speak up.”

She sighs and gives him a look. “Really, Daniel, if this is about your pride…”

“I’m just as good as every other goddamn agent out there but the moment you start going around and protecting me, Peg, everyone’s going to look at me differently. This crutch is going to be the only thing they’re gonna see, if they don’t already.” He knocks it against her desk and forces out a smile. “Don’t need a babysitter, you know.”

“Oh please,” Peggy laughs, light and loud enough to make his heart flutter in his chest. “I barely have enough time to worry about all of the other boys around here. I’m not going to bother treating arguably my most capable agent like a child.”

The praise sits heavy in his chest, swelling to a point where he can no longer speak. It’s times like this when Daniel wonders if he should just tell her. She has to be used to it. How could you not fall in love with Peggy Carter? But he knows that it’s all just a dream. They’ve known each other for almost two years and they’re close, friends even, but he knows Peggy would never date a subordinate. Nor would she ever give him the time of day, not when she had—

“Chief Carter?”

Daniel’s grin fades as the door creaks open. A flash of blond hair and an award winning smile that only science could create and of course it couldn’t be anyone than Steve Rogers.

Steve, who retired from the Army the day after VE Day without even bothering to listen to any complaints from the generals around him. Steve, who petitioned for Peggy’s Chiefship at the SSR the moment he found out it was open. Steve, who could have any woman in the world but wanted the only one who wouldn’t fawn over him—Peggy.

The corners of Peggy’s mouth tick up as she fights to keep a straight face. “Captain Rogers,” she says curtly, nodding in his direction.

“Ma’am, there’s a car out front,” he says, stepping into the doorway and leaning against the frame. “I think the driver said something about taking you to a restaurant but I can’t be too sure.”

“Well, Daniel, we’ll have to pick this conversation up tomorrow,” Peggy says, standing up and grabbing her coat from the rack in the corner. She pauses, one arm in her sleeve. “Do you need a ride home?” she asks, looking over at Steve. “I’m sure we could—”

“Don’t bother, Peggy,” Daniel mutters offhandedly, heaving himself out of the chair. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your night.”

He turns away from her before he can see the crestfallen look on her face.

Daniel takes the stairs down, slipping out through the dark switchboard room. The street is quiet, save for the few cars still out late at night and the dark haired man smoking against the wall. He glances over and rolls his eyes. “You don’t have anything better to do with your time, Barnes?”

James takes a drag of his cigarette and grins. “Could say the same thing about yourself, Sousa. I’ve been off work for two hours already; you’re still here.”

“Oh fuck off, Barnes. Haven’t you gotten me in enough trouble with that whole Krzeminski shit?” Daniel says, looking around for a cab. “Figured a big war hero like yourself had better things to do than get all up into my business.”

The other man flicks loose ash onto the sidewalk and looks a little surprised. “Wasn’t trying to do any harm, Sousa. Ray’s an asshole and I’m honestly sick of dealing with him.”

“At least he doesn’t call you ‘Pegleg’,” Daniel mutters, looking down the sidewalk again. “Jesus Christ, it’s not even that late. What’s a guy gotta do to get a goddamn taxi around here?”

The door opens again and they both turn to see Steve and Peggy step out onto the street. She looks happy, flushed with joy in ways that Daniel’s never seen her before, and that little bit of jealousy bubbles up in the pit of his stomach. She flashes him a smile and loops her arm through Steve’s waiting one before they both disappear into the idling car. James raises his hand, waving a bit as the car pulls away. He sticks the cigarette back in between his lips and says, “Didn’t think he’d ever settle down.”

Daniel’s eyebrows pull together. “Who, Rogers?” he asks.

James nods, taking one last drag of his smoke and pinching out out with his fingers. “That idiot wasn’t the dating type, least not seriously, until he met Peggy. Five bucks says he ends up marrying her before the end of the year.” Daniel’s throat tightens and he doesn’t say anything because he knows, if he does, he’ll say something that’ll end up giving him away. He feels Barnes’ eyes on him and all he wants is a cab.

“I need a drink,” he says offhandedly, more to himself than anyone else.

“I’ve got a bottle of whiskey at my apartment if you’re really that hard up for it, Sousa,” James says, motioning down the street. “I’m two blocks away, much closer than wherever you’re going, I’m sure.”

“I’m not that good of company.”

“It’s better than my usual routine of just sitting alone and drinking by myself,” he says, brushing his hair out of his face. The pomade has started to lose its hold and James’ hair has begun to curl in the front. Barnes tilts his head and a smirk lazily spreads across his face as he says, “Come on, Sousa. Don’t make me beg.”

Daniel looks down the street and sees an approaching yellow cab. He thinks about it. He’s probably just going to go home, fix himself a drink, and maybe grab food from the automat across the street like he usually does. But being alone after the hell of a day he’s had is sounding less and less appealing the more he thinks about it. The cab passes by and Daniel doesn’t hail it. He lets out a frustrated groan in the back of his throat and says, “Fine, but you’re going to feed me too.”

Barnes laughs and pushes himself off the wall. “Deal.”

~~~

They pick up sandwiches at the Jewish deli across the street from the building James lives in and it seems like everyone in the restaurant knows Barnes. He orders food in what sounds vaguely like German and hands the woman cash before kissing her on the cheek.

“You seem like a bit of a celebrity around here,” Daniel says as they climb the four flights of stairs to James’ apartment.

“It’s weird, you get shipped off and shoot some Nazis and suddenly everyone on the Lower East Side thinks you’re some kind of big deal,” James says, looking back over his shoulder. “They stuck our faces on the big screen for weeks, apparently. Can’t go anywhere without someone asking for an autograph.”

Daniel stops in the stairwell, gripping the railing. “Really?” he asks.

The taller man freezes and turns around, face dead serious. But he can’t keep the facade up long and busts out laughing, nose scrunching up as he shakes his head. “No, I’m just fucking with you, Sousa. Nobody around here gives a shit about me, the owners of the deli just know my family really well. Friends of my folks.”

The tension in the back of his shoulders seems to relax and Daniel finally feels a smile tug on his lips.

Barnes’ apartment is small but cozy, lit with floor lamps and filled with soft surfaces. The velvet couch is a little threadbare but is covered with a hand-knit blanket and some mismatched pillows. Daniel sinks in deep as he sits down, propping his crutch against the side table. He digs at the straps underneath his pant leg, the leather that keeps his leg belted to what’s left of his thigh, and adjusts the angle of the metal joint.

“You okay there?” Barnes asks as he returns from the kitchen with their bag of food under his arm and two clinking glasses dangling precariously from his fingers.

“Yeah,” he sighs, taking the paper bag and one of the glasses. “Leg just gets a little sore after a while. It’s fine.” Daniel tips the glass to his mouth and downs half the amber liquid in one go. The whiskey burns the back of his throat but then he remembers Peggy’s satisfied smile as she climbed into the car with Steve and, yeah, that might sting a little more.

James flops down next to him and props his long legs up on the coffee table. His shoes land on the floor with a soft clunk as he toes them off. “So, Sousa,” he starts before digging into the bag and pulling a wrapped sandwich out. “How long’ve you been with the SSR?”

“After I got my leg blown off,” Daniel says, grabbing his own sandwich. “Army just wanted to send me home but I still wanted to fight. I was a recon scout—a damn good one too, if I might add. SSR was the only place that would take me. He picks at the bread absentmindedly. “Peggy was the one that really fought for my place here.”

He can feel Barnes watching him out of the corner of his eye but Daniel can’t ignore the soft snort that the other man lets out.

“What?”

James shakes his head and sets his sandwich down to take a drink. “Nothing,” he says with a bitten-back grin. “You just…When you talk about her, you sound like Steve did back in the war. Too damn fond and all that shit.”

“Are you asking me if I’m in love with Peggy?” Daniel snaps, gripping his glass so hard that he thinks he might shatter it.

Barnes’ smirk spreads and he raises an eyebrow before taking a small sip. “You said it, not me.”

His ears flush red and he slams his glass down on the table, whiskey and ice sloshing around noisily. “Keep the sandwich, Barnes,” he says, struggling to get out of the God forsaken monstrosity of a couch he’s stuck in. His heart is pounding in his chest and all Daniel wants to do is to make a clean escape.

Another glass hits the table and a hand wraps around his bicep. “Hey,” James says gently. “I didn’t know Carter was such a sore subject, okay? Just sit your stubborn ass down.” Against his better judgement, Daniel drops back down onto the couch. Barnes takes another bite of his sandwich and asks, mouth half full, “Wanna swap some stories?”

They talk about Daniel’s recon work in France, about serving and surviving behind enemy lines, about being far from home. Barnes has far more impressive stories and even shares some bits that Daniel is probably sure are heavily classified, but are they really going to come after one of the Commandos for spilling Nazi secrets to a coworker.

“And then Dernier sticks a bomb under the tank as the thing damn near rolls over him. Blows up and the French asshole grandstands, can you believe it?” Barnes laughs. “Had to pick off a couple loose Hydra shits that tried to run off but, you know…” He trails off as he reaches for the last bit of his sandwich.

“You know, I never actually fired my weapon the entire time I was over there,” Daniel mutters, words beginning to slur together. He might be a little drunk at this point.

“No shit,” Barnes says, raising an eyebrow. “Never?”

“Nope, not even once. I’m fine with that though, don’t think I could stomach killing anyone if we’re being honest. Not even a Kraut.”

James’ face suddenly darkens and his whole demeanor pulls inward. His jaw stiffens and his lip curls in anger. “I didn’t care about killing them. Not after what they did to my family. Not after what they did to me.”

Daniel’s mouth suddenly feels like cotton. “Did you…Did you lose people over there?”

“My grandparents, an aunt and uncle, and five cousins,” James whispers, unable to look at him. “All at the camps. Couple at Birkenau and a couple at Dachau.” His quiet voice wobbles and it feels like a punch straight to Daniel’s gut. His chin quivers and he forces a facetioussmile across his face. “But hey, I got off easy, right? Got to come home instead of being dropped in some mass grave with the rest of my people.” Barnes’ leg starts to jiggle and suddenly he throws down what’s left of his sandwich and downs his third drink in one go.

“Hydra experimented on you, didn’t they?” Daniel asks and suddenly James’ head snaps up with wild, panicked eyes.

“How did you find that out?” he chokes, chest heaving.

“Heard Peggy talking to Stark about it. I don’t think they knew I was there. Didn’t say much though. You also said, ‘What they did to my family. What they did to me.’” He watches the younger man struggle to keep his easy-going wall up. “Look, man,” he says, “I know a lot of POWs who—”

“Two months,” Barnes whispers, his grey-blue eyes eyes clouding over. “I was in solitary for two months, Sousa.” His voice sounds hollow and rattles just enough to send a shiver down Daniel’s spine. “Do you know how much a group of fucked-up Nazi scientists can do to someone in two months?”

Daniel’s mouth is too dry to swallow and he tires not to let it show as he asks, “They know you’re a Jew?”

“Even if I didn’t have a big ol’ H on my tags, there are some things about me that I couldn’t hide when they stripped me, hosed me down, and threw me in a freezing cell, yeah.” He blinks, too drunk to catch the bitter joke and James motions to his crotch. “Let’s just say you’ve got something I don’t and it ain’t just two working arms.”

A deep flush falls over Daniel’s face as he mumbles, “Jesus Christ.”

“You know, I was stupid enough to believe that the guys were just normal Nazis instead of complete psychopaths. The first few days were pretty normal. Some old-fashioned beatings, some sleep depravation, fun stuff like that,” Barnes says flippantly. “You know that you begin to hallucinate after about 48 hours of being awake? 72 hours is even worse.” The other man’s face is dark and distant, like he’s just reciting facts now. “The water was worse though. They’d handcuff me and stick my head under the shower for what felt like hours then beat me awake if I passed out. I can still…” James’ voice fails him—his brows knotting together as his bottom lip quivers. His eyes are glassy as he turns to Daniel and says, “Can’t even take a f-fucking shower, anymore.”

The apartment goes quiet enough that Daniel can hear the clock ticking softly in the kitchen. He’s heard stories that made his toes curl but nothing like this. “Is that—Is that where you lost your arm?”

“No, they weren’t that interested in taking anything from me,” Barnes mutters. “Did get a nice souvenir though.” He pulls his shirt out of the waist pants of his pants and tugs it up over his chest. There, on the left side of his breast, was the mottled scar of a six pointed star and a four letter word branded into his skin.

Daniel picked up some pretty decent German while behind the lines and, while he isn’t fluent, he knows what that word means. Jew.

“There used to be one on my back too,” James says, his hand going behind his neck and tapping between his shoulders. “Got Steve to carve it out with my pocket knife. Passed out. Woke up and couldn’t get the bastard to do the other one—he complained that I screamed too much.” He goes quiet and won’t meet Daniel’s eyes. “Still think I’m a war hero, now? Still think all those stories about us are true?” he whispers bitterly, fingers running around the empty glass on the side table.

“Why are you still here?” Daniel asks, so sick to his stomach that he’s probably sure if he hears anymore, he’s going to hurl over Barnes’ couch. “Why stay in the SSR?”

“I know firsthand what the wrong people can do when they get too much power. I can’t let it happen to anyone else.”

He lets out a heavy breath and mutters, “Makes me losing my leg sound like a walk in the park.”

“You were Bastogne, right? We came in for the tail end of it but those 101st guys weren’t too keen on having help after the hell they went though,” James says, his voice still thick with memories. “Didn’t even know they pulled recon guys for that.”

“Heard German soldiers talking about reinforcements and I pulled myself from my position. Figured one more body would do some good, right?” he says, his thumb absentmindedly digging at the straps of his false leg again. “Almost made it too. Got about four klicks out and the German planes dropped a shell about two feet away from me. Tried to get behind a fallen tree but didn't make it in time.”

“A blast like that should’ve killed you,” James says, almost incredulously.

“Yeah, looking back, it probably should’ve,” Daniel mutters and wishes he had more alcohol. He was drunk but not drunk enough for this. “Woke up with a mouthful of dirt and half buried in it. Couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t move, couldn’t scream for help—not like anyone was there. No one knew I was out there, so no one was looking.” The muscle that’s left in his thigh aches from the leather confines and Daniel has to shift the joint again. “Did you know that the average time before anyone saw a medic over there was five hours?” he asks, looking at Barnes. “I was out there for almost two and a half days. They thought I was dead and, honestly, I had started to think I was too.”

“You start to think everything’s all in your head, right?” James asks. “They can’t be real because no one found you before so how’re they finding you now?”

Part of Daniel wants to tell him that he’s right and the other part of him wants to question how much experience the younger man has with being left for dead because how else could he have known exactly what it’s like to be abandoned like that—blood dripping out and skin going numb from frostbite.

But he only nods and whispers, “Yeah, right.”

~~~

Over the next hour, they manage to polish off the rest of the rest of the bottle of whiskey. Daniel’s vision swims. He can’t feel his fingers or his face. James’ features begin to blur into a mass of grey-blue eyes and pink lips. Daniel’s mouth still feels painfully dry, no matter how much he drinks.

“I don’t even know what she sees in him,” he says, trying to make the hands on his watch stay still long enough to tell what time it is. Maybe 10pm. Barnes makes some confused noise and Daniel waves a hand around. “Peg. Rogers. I don’t get it.”

“Maybe that’s just her type,” the other man offers from where he’s stretched out on the floor. “Big, dumb, and blond.”

“What’s your type?” he asks, struggling to sit upright on the couch.

“Definitely not what you’re expecting,” James laughs, loud and sharp.

“Protestant girls, right?” Daniel says as James pulls himself back up on the couch. “You all got a name for ‘em, right? The non-Jewish girls.”

“ _Shiksa_ ,” Barnes mutters. “Pretty sure my mother would prefer a _shiksa_ , honestly.” His eyes are half-lidded from the alcohol and his bottom lip is red from where he’s been worrying it. He pushes his curls back from his face and grins lazily. “I unfortunately have the curse of being more of a _sheygetz_ man myself.”

“I dunno what that means and I definitely am too drunk to figure it out myself,” Daniel says and he’s almost sure he’s going to sink through the couch and into the floor.

“Let’s just say,” Barnes says slowly, carefully like it’s a secret, “that they look a hell of a lot more like you, Sousa, than they look like Peggy Carter.”

At first, it feels like the words go in one ear and out the other. But then they circle back and punch him square in the face. “Fuck,” he slurs, raising an eyebrow and staring blearily at the taller man sitting across from him. “You’re a homosexual?” James shrugs and nods, much to Daniel’s shock. This wasn’t talked about openly, let alone at all. “But…But you don’t look like a fairy.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, I think?” James’ smile fades when he sees the mildly sick look on Daniel’s face. “Oh come on, you’ve been in New York for what, a year now and I’m clearly the first one you’ve come across? You gotta get out more, Danny Boy.”

His stomach flips again but he’s still rooted to his seat like a hundred year old oak tree. “s’not right,” he says, his cheeks flushing.

James rolls his eyes and leans back, head lolling to the side. “You mean to tell me that you spent three years in the Army and you never kissed another guy? I know how lonely those foxholes get.”

Daniel’s burning cheeks turn two shades darker. “No, fuck no, never,” he stammers.

The kiss happens before Daniel can even process it. Jame’s shifts smoothly to one knee, grabs him by the back of his skull, and presses their mouths together so gently that it makes his head spin. The younger man tastes like whiskey and cigarettes and rye bread—warm and heavy and sweet. It’s nothing like the half-dozen women he’s kissed over the years. Barnes’ barely-there stubble catches on Daniel’s chin and a sudden warmth he can’t explain comes over his body. His eyes flutter shut for just a moment until he comes to his senses and shoves James away with a hand to the chest.

They both stare at each other for a minute before James lets out a short, breathless laugh and says, “Well shit, Sousa. Carter doesn’t know what she’s missing out on.”

There’s no air in his lungs to form words, but somehow Daniel manages to choke out, “I’m not like that.”

“Neither was Steve until I kissed him,” James shoots back with a drunken smirk.

He can’t do this. He can’t fucking do this. The room spins and drops out from underneath him as Daniel stands, fumbling for his crutch. Blood is pounding in his ears and James is saying something that he can’t quite make out.

“Gotta—gonna go…” Daniel slurs and suddenly he’s out of the apartment and stumbling down four flights of stairs. This can’t be happening. There’s no way in hell that Barnes kissed him. It had to be some sick joke. Half of him was waiting for Jack to jump out and yell, ‘Gotcha!’ but nothing happens.

The cool air that hits his face as he falls outside sobers him up enough to hail a taxi and mumble out some semblance of his address. The car lurches forward and Daniel’s stomach turns as he drops his head between his knees in the backseat. “Y’okay there, pal?” the driver asks.

“Gonna be sick,” he slurs, clawing at the handle blindly.

The night comes in pieces after that. First, he’s on the side of the street hurling into the gutter. Then, he’s passing the cabbie way too much money for the trip. Finally, he’s collapsing in his own rented room, fumbling with his pants and his leg. Daniel crawls up onto his bed and closes his eyes, unable to forget a single moment.

James’ face and lips swim, even in the darkness.

~~~

He sleeps fitfully, tossing and turning until the sun begins to come up over his window sill. No amount of coffee seems to dull the throbbing ache at the base of Daniel’s skull where Barnes had grabbed him last night. Everything had to be some kind of terrible waking dream. There was no other explanation.

He looks like shit and Jack tells him as much the moment he walks through the doors. “Jesus, Sousa, you look like you went toe to toe with a tole of gin and lost,” the taller man laughs.

“Whiskey, actually,” Daniel grumbles and drops down into his chair, propping his crutch on the corner of his desk. Peggy’s heels click on the floor and suddenly she passes, offering him a smile he can barely return. When she’s just out of earshot, Daniel groans again and scrubs his hand over his face. “Fuck, I’m so glad it’s Friday.”

“No kidding, two whole days I don’t have to see your ugly mug is always something to look forward to,” Jack says, picking up Daniel’s stapler and fiddling with it.

“Why are you still talking?” he asks, willing his stomach back down into his body and out of his throat. “Don’t you have better things to do other than harass me, Thompson?”

“And see, I thought we were fri—”

His hearing cuts out when the elevator doors open again and Barnes slips through, shrugging off his jacket in the warm office. He doesn’t look at Daniel, or even acknowledge him, and Daniel isn’t sure if he’s more annoyed or grateful for it. Barnes makes his way across the room and sits with his back to him and acts like last night never even happened.

How dare he. How fucking dare he, sitting over there like he didn’t just ruin Daniel’s life and throw a wrench into everything he thought he knew about himself. Fuck. But there’s nothing new to know, right? He’s just some normal guy that Barnes decided to kiss and he was still normal after that. Daniel liked women just fine; more than fine, actually. Hell, he was still head over heels for Peggy, right? One little kiss didn’t change that.

Daniel admittedly gets absolutely no work done for the next four hours.

The office clears out for lunch and he watches James take some files from his desk to the records office, the tan folders held tight in his long fingers. The door closes and Daniel feels his good leg shake as he stands and grabs his crutch. His palm sweats against the handle and his heart won’t stop slamming against his sternum. Get it together, Daniel, he thinks. You’ve been in the same room as Eichmann. Fucking act like it.

He slips through the door and the soft thud of his crutch must give him away because Barnes doesn’t even look up from the filing cabinet as he mutters, “Hey, Sousa. What’s up?”

“Don’t ‘Hey, Sousa’ me,” Daniel snaps, maybe a little harsher than he initially means to. James turns around with a confused look and shoves his hand into the pocket of his slacks. “We need to talk about last night.”

Barnes raises an eyebrow. “Okay? What about last night?”

“You—” He huffs out a breath and looks at the still-empty office and the still-closed doors. “You kissing me,” he whispers. “That didn’t happen. I’m not like that. I don’t care if you’re—I’m just not, okay? So it’s not gonna happen again and both of us are just gonna forget about it, alright?”

His face is burning and flushes even darker when James lets out a snort. “Whatever you want, Sousa,” Barnes says, leaning back against the cabinet drawer. It closes with a clang and Daniel flinches a little. The taller man smirks. “Now if you excuse me…” He steps closer, way too far into Daniel’s personal space, and Daniel’s suddenly as frozen as he was last night. “I have to go meet someone for lunch.”

His mouth goes dry and he’s momentary lost in the stormy sky of James’ eyes. “W-Who?”

A mischievous glint crosses James’ face and his smirk curls the corners of his mouth like burning paper. “You know, you sound a little jealous, Daniel.”

A breath punches its way out of his chest and he has absolutely no witty remark, no snappy comeback as the other man breezes past him and out the door, leaving only carnage in his wake.

~~~

Over the next week, Daniel can’t stop thinking about James.

Can’t stop thinking about his smug face and the way he had hummed, “You sound a little jealous, Daniel.” Can’t stop thinking of the way he can still feel the younger man’s fingers at the base of his skull and the soft taste of tobacco on his lips.

James holds true to his word and goes back to rarely acknowledging Daniel’s existence. They don’t talk much in the office, other than the formalities they’re forced into in passing, and every day he doesn’t get as much as a smile from the other man—not that he even wants one, really—is just another punch to the gut. James has gone back to his life without even a second thought and completely uprooted Daniel’s.

He loses minutes, loses hours, loses days just trapped in his own head.

“Sousa, we’re all going out for drinks, you coming?” Jack says, kicking at his chair and jolting Daniel back to reality. “Come on, live a little. You can’t keep avoiding us all forever.”

“I got work to do, Thompson,” he mutters and he knows he sounds distracted. There are still files spread across his desk and it gives him enough of an excuse to get out of force socialization. Daniel doesn’t trust himself enough to drink in front of other people right now. He’s sure that, if he does, he’s going to end up talking about Barnes. He’ll end up saying something stupid and end up facedown in some alley, missing a couple of teeth at best. “Next time though.”

“You keep saying that and yet it never happens, Sousa,” Jack says, shoving his hands in his pockets and doing that cocky lean Daniel has become accustomed to. “This is why every guy here thinks you’re an absolute stick in the mud.” Daniel scoffs, makes some disgruntled noise of discontent, and buries his nose back in his work. “You know, you’d be a lot more fun if you stopped feeling so damn sorry for yourself.”

He’s too damn distracted to try and think of a comeback so he just ignores Thompson, fists clenching on his desk. If he felt as sorry for himself as Jack thinks he is, he wouldn’t be a goddamn SSR agent, wouldn’t be doing anything but sitting in some bar or alley sucking on a bottle of whiskey like so many of the other veterans he knows.

Jack sighs and rolls his head back, muttering, “Whatever, Sousa. Do what you want.”

The blond grabs his suit jacket off the back of his desk and disappears from the room, leaving Daniel alone.

The clock on the wall ticks loudly, echoing in the empty office.

The light is still on in Peggy’s office and Daniel can just barely see her through the blinds.

He stares at the way her hair falls down over her face as she chews on the end of a pen. Daniel wonders how he would feel, running his hands through the dark waves. He knows he’d want to kiss her, right? Of course he’d want to kiss her. He’s wanted to kiss Peggy Carter since the day she stepped into the medical tent to discuss his future in the SSR. He’d been so drugged up on morphine that he was pretty sure he had kicked it and was seeing a damn angel.

Daniel’s heart slams against his chest as his stomach twists into knots. It feels like an out of body experience—walking to her office. He has to do this. He has to tell her.

He raps his knuckles on her door and is immediately gifted a soft smile as Peggy lifts her head. “Daniel, come in, please!” she says, tired but genuine. “Are you staying late again? I thought everyone had already left.” He’s frozen in his spot, nodding distractedly as all of the screaming in his head drowns out any coherent thought that could possibly form. Peggy rises slowly from the desk, smoothing her skirt down as she asks, “Daniel, are you okay?”

“I need to tell you something, Peg,” he breathes, the words rushing out of his mouth along with all of the stale air in his lungs.

She circles the desk and, for a second, Daniel thinks she’s going to touch him. He won’t survive her hands on his face or body, not with the way she’s looking at him right now. Her voice is soft and tender as she comes within a foot of him, whispering, “Daniel, whatever it is, you can—”

“I love you.” Her hand falls from where it hovers between the two of them. “I love you, Peggy, and I think I’ve always loved you.”

His mind does not quiet, even when Peggy’s face falls. This should have eased his soul, should’ve reassured him that he’s still normal, that all of his thoughts about James were completely unfounded. But it doesn’t. Daniel’s stomach is still crawling up toward his throat, choking off any other words that might’ve come out.

It wasn’t enough.

“Daniel, I—” Peggy’s voice wavers as she forces a bittersweet smile. This isn’t what he wanted. “You are…such an incredible man. If I had met you before—before the war, maybe it would be different,” she says as tears prick her eyes. “But you know I’m—”

Daniel steps back, nodding quickly. “Yeah, yeah…”

“I really am sorry, truly. I wish—”

“Peg, don’t worry about it,” he whispers, backing up out of the doorway. Her office spins and Daniel can’t feel anything but the heavy thud, thud, thud of his chest. Peggy opens her mouth but he shakes his head, silencing her with a quick, “Don’t, please.”

He doesn’t want her sympathy. He doesn’t need it. He’s not broken, he’s not a waste of space. Daniel has been spent the last year and a half proving to not only the world but himself most of all that he has value. Peggy could give him the world, could love him more than she loves Steve, and still not understand what it’s like to come back to a world that didn’t want you. The only person that has understood that was James.

God damn his entire life.

~~~

Daniel struggles to make sense of anything, let alone any thought he has when James’ face floats through his mind’s eye. He’s never been scared of anything before this. He wasn’t scared of going behind the lines in Europe, wasn’t scared when he was bleeding out in the middle of the forests of France, wasn’t scared to get what was left of his lower leg taken. But this? Just the mere idea of what this might mean terrifies the hell out of him.

He paces around his room for what feels like hours, pouring glass after glass of gin until his steps become sloppy.

He’s not a queer. He’s not a queer. He told Peggy he loved her less than two hours ago. He told her he loved her and felt absolutely nothing when he did. There was no sense of relief, no desperate yearn to have her love him back like there was before. The gin numbs his body but does nothing to quiet his mind. He’s not a queer, he’s not a fucking queer.

He can’t be.

Pulling his tie off and dropping it on the ground, Daniel runs a shaking hand through his hair. The phone sits on his desk, almost mocking him in his panic. He came clean to Peggy and he has to do the same thing to James. Shut down any notion that this was a possibility, because it’s not—it can’t be.

He holds his breath as he wraps his fingers around the phone.

It takes a few minutes to connect the call but suddenly James’ soft, deep voice is echoing into his ears as he says, “You’ve reached James Barnes, who is this?”

Daniel’s heart plummets into his stomach and he leans hard onto his crutch to stay upright. The back of his throat burns and it’s not just from the alcohol in his system. He lets out a shaking breath and slurs, “It’s…It’s Daniel…”

The only sound James makes is a soft, surprised, “Oh.”

“I can’t do this anymore,” he says. “I can’t keep doin’ this. I can’t keep thinking about you and thinking about you kissing me.” His fingers tremble and, for all the alcohol he’s drank tonight, Daniel feels painfully sober for this. “I know—I know what you’re like, Barnes, and I’m not like that. I’m not—but I can’t…can’t stop thinking about you.” He knows how desperate—how fucking wrecked—he sounds, but there’s nothing he can do to stop the words tumbling out of his mouth. “I’m not a queer.”

Daniel’s chest heaves and everything feels so goddamn heavy.

It takes a few minutes and he listens to James’ careful, steady breath from across the phone—drinks it in like a man dying in the desert. He wonders if the younger man has straight up hung up on him until he hears James swallow thickly. Daniel shudders, on the edge of a precipice, as James whispers, “Then why are you calling me?”

The noises in his head build to a deafening roar. Everything comes into clarity and Daniel’s eyes flutter shut. “I don’t know…” he breathes. “Because…Because I want you.”

“Then why are you still talking?”

The line clicks and Daniel can’t move fast enough.

He hails a cab and throws his crutch in the back seat. Daniel knows he still sounds a little drunk as he mumbles James’ address, still in his head from over a week ago, but his mind has never been more focused. He wants James. He wants to be normal, he wants to be the person he always has been, but God, he’s never wanted anything more than he wants James.

There’s a part of him that wants to turn back around. Wants to run back to his old life and hide behind the mask that he could so carefully carve with relative ease. But Daniel knows that he can’t continue at the SSR, can’t continue sitting at that desk with James across the room, and pretend like nothing has changed.

Maybe this is his new normal.

Daniel climbs the four flights of stairs and doesn’t feel a single thing. He stands outside the apartment door, hand hovering over the knob as he tries to pull any shred of courage from the deepest parts of his soul.

Now or never.

The door is unlocked and the rush of blood to his head subsides the moment he sees James sitting on the arm of the couch, waiting for him. The younger man fights back a hopeful smile and whispers, “You came.”

Daniel nods, stepping into the apartment. The door hangs open and James steps forward, closing the space between the two of them. His hair is a little disheveled and Daniel knows that he must look the same. He wonders if James is as nervous as he is. Has he lost sleep over all of this like Daniel has? Has James stayed awake, staring at the ceiling and replaying their kiss like he has?

“James, I…”

The door closes with a click and Daniel’s crutch falls from his hand, clattering to the ground with a sound that he barely hears. He stumbles forward, backing James up against the door and crushing their mouths together. The metal joint of his knee gives out and Daniel can feel the other man’s arm quickly catch him around the waist to hold him steady. James’ tongue slips into his mouth and Daniel braces a hand against the door to keep them together.

His other hand comes up around the back of James’ neck and everything comes into focus.

He tangles his fingers through the loosening curls at the back of the taller man’s neck and breathes, “James…”

“Bucky,” James pants, his thigh fitting between Daniel’s legs the entire world melts away from them. “Call me Bucky, please. Please, Daniel…”

They tumble back toward the bedroom and every doubt in his head goes silent.

~~~

Daniel doesn’t sleep that night.

He stays awake watching the moonlight stream through the window across Bucky’s bare back. It illuminates the thick patch of scar tissue between his shoulder blades as the other man’s body rises and falls with his even, steady breathing. Daniel reaches out with careful fingertips and rests his hand on warm skin.

The younger man makes some contented noise in his sleep but doesn’t stir.

His prosthetic leg sits abandoned on the floor next to the bed and for the first time since leaving the hospital, Daniel doesn’t feel lost without it. They had fallen back onto the mattress and Bucky had quickly tugged his own shirt off, exposing the scarred stump of his left arm without a single hesitation. They both froze, staring at each other in such an intimate moment, and the silent, ‘I showed you mine, now show me yours,’ passed between them. Daniel hadn’t even thought twice about undoing the straps around his thigh.

Daniel shifts in bed, sinking down to press the bridge of his nose against Bucky’s shoulder. He presses a quick kiss. “Mmmph…Daniel?” the younger man hums, lifting his head from the pillow with bleary eyes. Bucky’s brows furrow a little and he lets out a shaking exhale. “Are you…are you going to stay this time?”

It’s quiet enough that all Daniel can hear is their breathing begin to sync. He traces Bucky’s high, sharp cheekbones down to the curve of his pink lips. The other man absentmindedly kisses the pad of his thumb, grey blue eyes wide and searching. Daniel’s heart swells in his chest to a point that he can’t feel anything but an overwhelming sense of home. This is where he’s supposed to be.

He shakes his head, leaning forward and kissing Bucky chastely.

“Yeah…Yeah, I’m gonna stay…”

Neither of them can hold back a smile as sleep begins to creep slowly back into the world they’ve started building together.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> I hope everyone enjoyed this! Feedback is always graciously appreciated!


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